The vase is too nice and it is annoying all things that breathe the dirty air in this old room. Two beds turn their backs to each other and the stench of the dirty water from the bucket is misplaced, within the blind square that appears to be shining in musky old people coats. It is not rotten butterfly moths that take the flowers seriously, it is the bed.
A Skinny Belt
Whatever is fat must dread life forever. Irritating leather makes it seem to be more. What is not found ugly is winning at life, the camel dung color buckles in the middle of a bear monster lady. Lady, missing and misplaced by the bears that love her on the bed. They would look for her if they could turn their faces. Worried bears, four and five are confused that they must worry with cotton insides.
Things show on your body in sudden, eerie places, like elbow nooks and toe cranny's. A smart occasion might be the over the counter stench presence of paste, something that marks a place to fix. And with fixing, comes worry and worry sweats. Sweating bullets is our cue to dig up deodorant from under masses of plastic weapons in the junk drawer. The mail man lifted his arm to knock on the door but no one watched.
*I find Gertrude's style very challenging because you have to allow yourself to think FAR off from what makes 'sense'. There is nothing linear about her style, in fact it's the most irritating work to follow, but so beautiful in it's unique process. Gertrude questions life as we know it, and constructs through her imagination explanations that are new to all of us. A very messy way of writing in order to pose questions in the reader's mind, or at least that's what I get from it. The work is challenging, but beautifully awkward. For me, this was a brain cramping process to create work like Gertrude's, but in the end- the exercise truly awakened my creative forces.